


Timing

by Rainbowinthedawn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 00:29:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbowinthedawn/pseuds/Rainbowinthedawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles had heard his father ask him the most rediculous things regarding his company. But asking him to seduce his biggest rival’s son before he turns nineteen wasn’t something he had expected to hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timing

Timing  
"This is absurd! I can't believe you are asking me to do this!"  
His father had asked him the most weirdest things in the past couple of years regarding his company, but trying to seduce the son of his biggest rival was something Harry had never expected to come from his father's mouth. He could feel his blood boil just staring at his father, the smug look the man was wearing turning his stomach.

Harry's father was the owner of one of the biggest clothing store chains of the world, Oakland corporation, owning around nine-hundred-and-seventy stores all around the globe. It was a family business, going on from father to firstborn son for the last six generations of Styles man. Harry was to be the next president of the company, as soon as his dad deemed himself too old. 

But really, Harry didn't want to become the next president. Over the last years he had seen his father change into a greedy monster, obsessed with money and taking down his rivals. He didn't want to become someone like that, where only financial related things mattered. And besides that, fashion really wasn't his cup of tea.

But now, now his father was asking him to go to some random school to board there and try to seduce the heir to the biggest rival of his father, and before that his grandfather, Sophisticated industries. The feud between the two companies had gone on for years, generations of Styles and Tomlinsons even. 

"What I am asking, Harold, is important for your future."

The tone in his father's voice was stern and calm as he leaned forwards, placing his clasped hand on the desk in front of him. They had a short staring contest, until Harry looked away, crossing his arms across his chest. 

"You can't ask this of me! Mum will never approve this idea!"

His father rose up from his seat, slamming a flat hand on the wooden piece of furniture in front of him. Harry flinched at the sudden noise that echoed through the room. "Your mother-" He spat as if it was a disease. "-Harold, gave me full custody of you when she ran with that gardener. She doesn't have a say in this. Doesn't have a say in the way I raise you."

"I can go to the press with this, father. I can ruin your whole career with just a few words." He leaned forwards, mimicking the pose his father had, staring him straight in the eyes. "I can just let a thing or two slip about this, easy."

A glint appeared in his father's eyes, the left corner of his mouth raising up in a twitching motion, as if he wanted to smile. "You and I both know you can't, son. No one knows you are my son, that you are my heir. You can go to the media, but they won't believe a word you say, because they don't know who you are."

Harry could feel his blood turn to ice at the grin on his father's face. He leaned back, his hands slipping from the tabletop. Of course he knew he couldn't, but he had hoped his father hadn't seen that dip in his plan and would have been threatened by it. No one knew who the heir to Oakland was, and if there even was one. His father had wanted him to stay anonymous until it was his time to take over the company.

"You can't force me into this doing this, I refuse!"

"This is not a matter of you refusing, Harry. This is for the future of this company, for your future."  
"My-" Harry was startled a little, trying to search for words. "My future?" He scoffed, leaning forwards again, hands flat on the desk. "You think that destroying other people's lives will be good for my future?" He was shaking his head. "You make me sick!" The hiss left his lips, straight into his father's face, low and threatening.

"This is the only way that you will still have a future!"

Harry laughed, a dry, humourless laugh, taking a step back. "You really think I can't do anything on my own, do you? You think I'm pathetic, that I will never achieve anything on my own. I can't believe you even have the nerve to call yourself my father!"

His father slammed his hand down on the desk again. This time, Harry didn't even flinch at the sound or the anger shown in his dad's eyes. "You will do as I say, Harold. You will go to this school, make this boy fall in love with you, and make sure he won't take over the company when he turns nineteen."

"Bite me." Was hissed before Harry turned around and stormed from the office, slamming the heavy wooden door behind him, letting it shake in its hinges, making the walls tremble around it. 

\--

"Don't think you will ever see me again, you bloody arse!" Harry screamed after the disappearing car. "I hope you'll choke on it! I hate you!" His knees were trembling with anger as he stood in the middle of a long driveway. His blood was boiling, pumping around his body so loud that it buzzed in his ears. "I can't believe you would do this to me!"

Then, the car was gone, and Harry sunk down on his suitcase, cursing. 

He had done it, he couldn't believe it. His father had dragged from his room, the grip on his wrist almost bruising as he was wrestled into the car, his father locking his door before he could even react. The whole car ride, the full four hours it had taken them to get away from London, he had yelled at his dad, cursed and thrown fits. He knew he was almost seventeen, that he was too old for tantrums, but sometimes situations asked for that kind of measurements. 

A sound was coming from behind him, an old door creaking open. He turned on his suitcase as a guy appeared in the doorway. He looked a bit cautious as he stared down at him, blue eyes unreadable before they lit up, a smile making its way on his face. When he appeared from behind the door, Harry took notice of the clothes he was wearing, something that he had taken to over the last year. He blamed his dad for that.

The boy was wearing a baby blue T-shirt, white writing swirling along the chest part. It seemed like a normal shirt, but Harry was trained to see the little things, like the small red emblem that was sown to the bottom of the shirt. It was a Oakland shirt, he knew from the little sign that was put on all their clothing. That, and the fact that Harry had approved the shirt for the spring collection the year before. His dad always went to him for the teen collections.

"You must be Harry, our new housemate!" The blonde stepped outside, grabbing onto Harry's arm and hauling him up from his suitcase. "Hey! My name's Niall, nice to meet ya!" Harry was a bit startled by the bubbly personality of the boy, who seemed around his age, as he was dragged inside the house. "We've been waiting all day for you!"

He was dragged inside a long hallway, the only light there seemed to come from the chandelier on the middle of the ceiling and the doorway. But when the door closed behind him, the room darkened, a light yellow hue cascading down the walls and furniture.  
He looked around, trying to get a feeling about the lay-out of the house. From the outside it had looked rather small and cosy, but now that he was inside it looked grand and dark, not warm and cosy at all. Everything was dark, from the painted walls, to the dark wooden furniture and the deep Bordeaux red carpet. He wasn't comfortable at all, not even close.

"Guys!" He started at the loud, booming voice from besides him. He lost his footing as the boy - Niall, he chastised to himself - dragged him forwards a few more steps, until they were next to a staircase. "The new one has arrived!" As soon as he stopped yelling, the thundering sounds of footsteps were heard.

Two boys appeared at the top of the stairs, hanging over the banister to look down. One had black hair, perched atop his head with the front going up in a something that looked like a slope to Harry. The other had a light brownish colour, falling down over his forehead in a fringe, almost covering one of his eyes. They shared a look before they both began moving again, skipping steps as they made their way down, popping up in front of him, wearing grins.

"Welcome to Sweetwater, Harry! I'm Liam!" The brunette boy spoke up. "This is Zayn." He pointed at the other guy, who nodded at him.  
Harry didn't say anything, just stared at the two boys in wonder. 

"Where's Lou? I haven't seen the bloke all morning."

Lou. A nickname. That meant that these guys were close with each other. Close enough to give the other nicknames, that was for sure. A spark of hope bubbled up in Harry stomach. That could mean they would maybe keep him as far away from Louis as possible, if he just acted a really good part.

"Last time I saw him, he was in the kitchen. Had another fight with his dad just now. Wouldn't bother him if I was you, Ni, you know how he gets." Zayn spoke up, eyes flickering up to Harry. "Wouldn't be good to scare the rookie away on his first day, now would it?" It made Harry wonder how bad those fights were, if they happened on a regular base like the other lad implied.

But it seemed that the blond had ignored the warning as he dragged Harry away again, through a closed door at the end of the hallway. He almost tripped when Niall stopped walking, keeping upright by flailing his arms around. 

Once stable, he had time to eye the room he was so kindly pulled into. It was the kitchen, and it was noticeable brighter in there than in the hallway. There was a lone figure sitting at a round wooden table, headphones on and scribbling in a notebook, the only sound in the room was the dull thumping of the music coming from the guys headphones.

"Lou!"

There wasn't any reaction given, the boy just continued to scribble in his notebook, the pen scratching against paper roughly, almost angrily. His fringe was falling into his eyes, moving with the movements he made. 

"Louis!" Niall hissed, releasing Harry's wrist as he stalked up to the table, ripping the notepad from underneath Louis' pen. Harry could hear the angry scratch it left on the paper before he could see it. It went from the top, just underneath a few written words he couldn't read, all the way to the edge of the page. 

"What the -" The other boy started, ripping his headphones off quickly and swivelling in his chair to glare at Niall. Piercing blue eyes were dark as the narrowed, the pupil small. "- Niall! What the hell, mate?!" He growled, getting up from his seat, dropping his pen down on the table as he ripped his notepad back from Niall. "How many times have I said this already? Don't touch my bloody stuff!" His voice was so low that it was almost a growl. 

It sent a shiver down Harry's spine involuntarily.

"You weren't answering me, Lou! Come meet Harry, the new guy!"

It was then that Louis' eyes flickered away from the blond and noticed that there was another presence there besides them. Harry's breath hitched a little when their eyes connected, those angry blue eyes staring him up and down. He had never really thought about it, that guys could be beautiful too, just like girls.

This guy was perfection.

Of course he had seen the pictures of him in the tabloids and on the internet. The bloke was portrayed as a womanizer in those, even if he was openly gay. He couldn't blame them now, with looks like those he could make any person's knees go weak, male or female.  
"Just don't touch my stuff anymore, Niall. I mean it." And with that, without really acknowledging Harry at all, he stormed past him, slamming the kitchen door as he did so. A few moments Harry could vaguely hear footsteps banging up on the wood of the stairs, followed by the slamming of yet another door, much farther away.

"Don't mind him, Haz. He has these tantrums every time him dad calls. They don't have the best relationship, you see. Lou has to take over his dad's firm when he turns nineteen in December, but he really just wants to me a musician. They fight about that quite a bit." It was as if the whole thing between Louis and his father was nothing. But to Harry it could mean that this whole plan would fail.  
"Oh." Was the only thing he said to the whole story. 

"But let me show you to your room! You're bunking with me and Liam, hope you don't mind. You would die in Lou and Zayn's room. It's horrible in there." Harry followed the blond silently as they crossed the hall and went up the stairs.

The upstairs was just as dark as the entrance hall. The same coloured walls, the same kind of wood for the furniture and the same carpet covering the floor. "So," Niall spoke up again as he pushed a door open somewhere in the middle of the hall and entering through it. "what's your story? why are you here at Sweetwater?" He dropped down on a bed, the bottom one of one of the bunk beds in the room.  
Harry looked around first. The walls were a dark, almost navy blue colour. The floor was panelled with wood, a single rug covering the middle of the floor. There were two desks, two bunk beds and a closet, shoved against the walls. It was a lot lighter than in the hallway, enough light streaming into the room from the windows, where the curtains weren't drawn across.

"I-" Harry started, before deciding to start his story different. "My dad's some big business man, travelling a lot for work." It wasn't technically a lie, really. Ever since his mum left with their gardener he had a thing against lying. His mum had lied to his dad and him for years, mucking around with the man that cleaned their pool and hosed the flowerbeds. She had promised she would be back for him, the day she left all those years ago. But she never did. He had never seen her again. "Ever since my mum left he's away more and more. He started feeling guilty all of a sudden, dropping me here so I wouldn't be alone."

"Did your mum die?"

It was as if the boy was scared to ask, if maybe it was a touchy topic or something. So Harry turned to him, shaking his head slowly. "No," He began, trying to hide the anger and pain in his voice. "she ran away with the gardener when I was twelve. My dad threw himself in his work, never home anymore." He shrugged, diverting his eyes to a poster that was tacked to one of the walls with a few colourful pushpins. 

"Oh."

"Doesn't matter." He shrugged, sitting down on the other bottom bed across from Niall. "Happened years ago, doesn't bother me anymore." He bit the inside on his lips, trying to get rid of the turning feeling in his stomach. 

He had never really gotten over the fact that his mother had left him.

"I'm here because I wanted to escape Ireland. England seemed the most obvious place to go to. But you'll like it here! No adult supervision and all, 's nice." 

"What do you mean 'no adult supervision'?" 

Niall looked up from where he was digging behind the pillow on the bed, pulling a wrapped piece of candy from underneath it as he sat up, twisting the ends to unravel it. "Well -" He started, popping the yellowish piece of candy in his mouth, sucking on it before continuing. "- Lou's eighteen, legally an adult. And since our last caretaker took off before the summer, we didn't need a new one. We just pretend he's the adult this house needs to hold a bunch of teenagers."

"And the school allows that?"

"Well, if they gave a damn, there wasn't anything they could do anyways. Lou's legal, and we really didn't tell our parents that our last caretaker ran off, screaming about how mental we all were. So as long as we don't screw up, like, set the lot on fire or something like that, we're good." He dropped down on the bed, happily sucking on his candy.

Harry just sat there, eyes drifting to the window, where little water droplets were starting to gather on the glass, sliding down and leaving trails. His eyes widened, jumping up from the bed. "Fuck-" He cursed. "- my suitcase!" And he set off, leaving a bewildered Niall behind him as he stormed from the room and down the stairs to safe his belongings from the rain.

\---

"Morning!" Was the first thing he heard when he had stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes. Liam was sitting at the kitchen table, plate with two sandwiches in front of him, a glass of milk next to it. "Had a good sleep?"

Harry mumbled something, words that even weren't understandable to him. He dropped down on a chair, dropping his head down on his arms that he folded together on the table top. He had been awake all night, first because he never really was comfortable anywhere but his own bed, but then because there had been snoring. A lot of snoring, very loud snoring. It had kept him awake almost all night.  
"You experienced Niall's snoring. Sorry, should've warned you yesterday. I have an extra set of earplugs I could give you for tonight. Helps a lot, if you ask me." It was followed by a slurping sound. "How about I make you breakfast, since I didn't warn you?"

He perked up at that, lifting his head up and trying to make his best puppy-eyes. "Yes, please!"

"Those eyes don't work on me." Liam chuckled, pushing his chair back so he could get up, the scraping sound thundering around Harry's eardrums. "But because you couldn't sleep with that chainsaw in our room, I'll take pity on you this time." Harry watched him as he bounced around the kitchen, gathering a plate, bread, a glass, milk and a tub of Nutella. 

"I hate my dad." He muttered, placing his head back down on his arms, his cheek resting on his forearms. He could watch Liam smear a layer of Nutella on a piece of bread, folding it in half and placing it on the plate. If he had heard what he had said, he was pretty good at acting like he didn't. 

"Here, and I should hurry if I were you. We leave for school in twenty minutes. Don't know how fast you are in getting ready." The plate was pushed in front of his face, and he was met by a waft of chocolate. "You've got your bike here, right?"

Harry looked up, just as he was about to bite into one of the sandwiches. "My what?" 

"Your bike? We go to school by bike, because otherwise it'll take us way too long."

"No?"

Liam sighed, emptying the last of his glass of milk, tipping his head back. "I'll get you a ride with Lou, then. I would offer to take you, but my carrier is broken, Zayn doesn't have one on his, and you'll fear for your life when you ride with Niall." They continued to eat their breakfast in silence.

Liam had disappeared once he had finished his sandwiches, dropping his plate and glass in the sink. He could hear him yell for the others to hurry their asses up, or he would leave without them, and Harry would take one of their bikes. There were yelled responses to which Harry paid no mind, until it was only Louis that Liam yelled at, ordering him to give him a ride to school.

The next few minutes passed by in a rush. Bodies tumbled into the kitchen, grabbing food and disappearing again, crumbs of bread trailing behind them. Feet thundered on the upper level, a lot of curses were thrown back and forth as one claimed the bathroom seconds before the other could. Liam kept yelling at them to hurry up. 

Harry got up from his seat, shaking his head to move his hair from his eyes, making his way up the stairs to the first floor. He ducked as a body flew past him, tucking a shirt over their head, arms flailing in every direction as they hurried to the stairs.

He took his time in the bathroom, brushing his teeth as the other boys buzzed around him one at a time. Zayn slicking his hair up with gel, Liam brushing his teeth, Niall doing the same moments later. He hadn't seen Louis at all, but once he went down the stairs, backpack slung over his shoulder, he saw him. The older boy was standing at the bottom of the stairs, slipping on a pair of black vans, pushing the white laces inside without tying them.

Liam was right beside him, pulling on a jacket. He looked up when Harry went down the stairs. "Just on time! Lou agreed to give you a ride to and from school as long as you don't have your own bike." He said just as he zipped up his jacket, pulling his backpack onto both his shoulders. "We're going already. Zayn and Niall will catch up with us somewhere halfway down."

Harry just nodded, not trusting to use his voice around Louis just yet. The older boy looked him up and down before turning to leave the house, leaving the front door open as he went. Liam followed behind him, waiting on Harry before he closed the door. 

Four bikes were lined up in a iron rack against a outer wall of the house. All were in different forms, and Harry could immediately spot Liam's bike, the carrier being bend into odd angles. The one to its left had to be Zayn's, as it had no carrier at all. The one on the far left was Louis, he noted, when the older boy went up to it and unlocked it with a single motion, pulling the bike from the rack.

There were no words exchanged as they waited for Liam to unlock his bike and pull it from the rack. Nor was there any exchange when Louis got on his bike, patting the carrier behind him while looking back over his shoulder at Harry. Harry just stepped closer, waiting for the boy to start riding, jumping onto the carrier once he did.

Louis wobbled a bit, taking a moment to regain his balance from the sudden weight add while Harry grabbed at the carrier next to his left leg, trying to keep his balance without having to grab at Louis' back or side. Harry kept his eyes clenched shut until he was certain they weren't going to topple over. 

He listened to Liam chattering away without much attention. He hummed sometimes, hoping it was at the appropriate moments. Every time the other boy continued to talk, he sighed in his head, letting his mind go blank again until it was time to hum again. Somewhere between five and eight minutes, his butt began to hurt from the steel strokes of the carrier pressing against him in certain places.

He tried to shift, but that only startled Louis, making him shake the handlebar of his bike. Harry gasped as he lost his balance, grabbing at the closest thing to regain it. He could feel the smooth texture of leather underneath his fingertips and he cursed to himself.

"Keep still! We're going to crash if you keep wriggling!"

From then on he tried to ignore the numbing of his bum, trying to keep as still as possible.

They were joined by Niall and Zayn a few minutes later. The four other boys chatted together - fairly loudly, may he add - while Harry stared at the trees that zoomed past him. Once they got off the road straight through the woods and they entered the town, other students joined around them. It only took them minutes to get to the school.

Louis slowed down, and Harry jumped from his carrier just before they came to a complete stop. He tucked his head between his shoulders, pulling them up while pulling the sleeves of his jacket over his hands, sticking them under his armpits. He went to turn away, but a hand grabbed his arm.

"Don't I get a reward for bringing your ass here?"

Harry's eyes snapped up, travelling up the arm. "What?" He asked, but Louis just turned his head, as if he was offering his cheek, tapping it with the index finger of his free hand. Harry pulled his head back, just staring at him unblinkingly. "What?" He repeated, a bit more unbelieving this time.

"I saved you from being late-" He let go of his arm, leaning sideways with one arm resting on his handlebar. "-I think you owe me something for that." He pulled his eyebrows up, making Harry take a step back. "And besides, you're cute." Louis shrugged as if it was nothing. "I see it as a win-win situation. You got to school on-time, and I get a kiss from a fit boy."

Harry stuttered, taking another step back, pulling his shoulders up even higher. "I-" He started, adverting his eyes away. "-I've gotta go. Have to search for class, and yeah..." He quickly turned, walking away. Before he was far enough, he could hear Louis laugh quietly, the tires of his bike moving over the stone flooring as he moved away.

He cursed inwardly as he hopped up the few steps leading into the building. This was not going as planned. That fluttery feeling he just got was not something he could use. that, and the fact that there was no way he could be attracted to another bloke.

There just was no way.

The hallways were crowded as he went through them in a desperate search for his math classroom. Days before his father forced him from his home, a package had been sent, containing a few of the books needed for his classes, some forms and a paper with his schedule. It had been more useful if they had sent a copy of a map with it, instead of stating regulations that could be easily found on the website. Now he was lost, with no idea where to go.

He roamed the halls in desperation, looking at all the doors, which numbering all began to blend together, seemingly in random order now. He let a sigh pass his lips, hanging his head before turning around yet another corner, ending up in a hall that seemed so familiar, but at the same time so unfamiliar to him.

"Harry?"

In a quick turn, he moved to face the person that had called his name. His shoulders relaxed, as feeling of relieve washing over him as he was met with both Zayn and Niall. "God, you don't know how relieved I am to see you. This school is like a bloody maze."  
"We kind of figured," Zayn began, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. "with you looking like a lost, 'lil cat or something. What class you looking for?" The boy grabbed at the piece of paper he was holding, turning it up right so he could read what was on it. "Maths with Rolems? Though luck there, mate."

"Why's that?"

Niall snorted, hanging above Zayn's shoulder to get a proper look at Harry's schedule. "Because the man is bonkers. He goes for every new kid, asking about our whole life. He went as far as asking Lou what it was like, becoming the next head of Sophisticated and all that. Big mistake, because Lou really doesn't like to talk about that, or his dad for all that matters."

Zayn thrust the schedule back in Harry's hands. "But fortunately for you, we're all in that class. Me and Niall'll show you the way."   
Harry nodded, following behind the two friends as they went into the complete opposite direction he was going in. They stopped at a door, which Harry was pretty sure he had seen already, opening it and going through. Niall grabbed his arm, pulling him down in a seat next to him while Zayn sat down on the other side, all the while talking about their teacher.

The class streamed inside, taking up the rest of the seats just before the teacher entered. Harry took a glance around, taking note of Liam sitting up front with Louis next to him. They were talking in hushed whispers and Liam almost seemed irritated by the other lad. But before Harry could try and figure out what they were saying by reading Louis' lips, a shadow fell over his desk.

"It seems we have a new student in our midst."

The class fell silent, and he could feel eyes turn in on him. He pulled up his shoulders, shrinking back into his seat slightly, actually praying that the things he was just told about the teacher weren't true and that the man would just leave him alone.  
"You must be Harry Styles, where you from, son?"

Harry almost whined a loud, shifting in his seat as he turned his eyes up. "London?" It came out more as a question. He cleared his throat, sitting up just a bit straighter. "Cheshire originally, though."

"And I heard you're living at the Sweetwater house. May I ask you why that is?"

Really, this man was just as annoying as he had been told. Why would the man care that he boarded and what the reason to do so was. But he tried to stay calm, answering the teacher in a polite tone. "My dad's away from home a lot. Doesn't want to leave me alone for so long. Thought it was better if I boarded somewhere." He lied straight through his teeth, a feeling of guilt welling up like it always did as he lied.  
"And what about your mother, then?"

It hit a nerve. Harry could feel his muscles in his thigh tremble as he tensed them. "My mum is none of your business, sir." He curled his hands, nails scratching against the wooden top of his desk. "Because, apparently she lost the right to call herself my mother, as I have to believe my father."

But nothing seemed to stop the man from asking further. "What do you mean with that, Harry?"

Harry huffed, the teacher really pushing it too far. "The fact that my dad is such an arse that he drove my mum straight into the arms of another man, causing her to leave? Yeah, apparently that accounts to her not being my mum anymore." He hissed. "But I would appreciate it if you kept your big, awful nose out of my private life, thank you very much." 

With those words, he grabbed the book Niall had placed open on his own table. "Which chapter are you on?" He never got any reaction from the blonde boy, so he just flipped through the pages, settling on a random page and then pulling a pen and a graphing paper notebook from his bag. "You can start the lesson whenever you want, sir. Really, I don't mind. It's not as if you get paid to teach, instead of snooping around in teens private lives."

The teacher just nodded, turning around and sitting on the edge of the desk a little bit dazed.

\---

The weeks passed by fairly quickly. After the first encounter with his math teacher, the man had avoided asking him any question, instead just pointing out other people around him. Niall had applauded him afterwards, telling him no one had ever dared to put their teacher in his place, except for Louis.

The boy in question had slung his arm around him, pulling him close, whispering softly in his ear that it had been quite hot to see him lose his temper like that. Before Harry could react, the warmth he had provided was gone, just like the boy, strolling down the hall. Harry had stared after him, unblinkingly until he was dragged off to his next class by Niall. 

He had avoided Louis the next few days. Every time he saw the blue-eyed, brown haired boy, he darted from the room, claiming he had to use the bathroom, or any other lame excuse he could think of at the moment.

He swore he saw Louis smirk every time he bolted past him and out the door.

It had been four days later that he had been cornered, nowhere to escape to. Nothing had happened, just Louis looking up at him with a smirk on his lips before slipping away again. Harry had stood rooted on the spot, hands against the wall to help him keep up on his trembling knees.

From that point, Louis had been more persistent, not letting Harry leave whenever he entered the room. There had been a lot of wandering hands, brushes and whispers on Louis part that left Harry's stomach with a tingling feeling and his knees weak. How much he tried to fight the feelings, they returned every time the bloke got into his personal bubble.

But no, Harry did not like him. He wasn't into guys. He liked girls. He was straight.

He just hoped he was able to convince himself.

It had been three weeks of him living in Sweetwater that he listened in on a heated argument between Louis and his father over the phone. They had to use a landline phone in the livingroom whenever they needed to make calls in the house. Because for some reason their mobiles had no service in any room of the house.

He had been on his way to the kitchen when he heard. It was Louis talking with a raised voice, throwing curse words down the line. He had stood just besides the door, back pressed against the wall so he wouldn't be seen. 

It had been a short conversation, which ended with Louis yelling into the horn that there was no way in hell he would become just like his father.

When Harry heard the horn slam down, signalling the call had ended, he had bolted down the hall, slipping into the loo silently just before Louis had entered the hallway, hands in his hair, cursing at his father, kicking at the stairs before climbing up them.

Harry had stood in the loo for a while, just to be sure it didn't look as if he had been eavesdropping and that Louis had really left the hall before he went out of the loo and into the kitchen.

Louis wasn't the only one receiving calls from his dad. His own father called him almost daily, sometimes even twice a day, demanding information about his 'mission'. He had to cringe every time the phone rang and one of the others yelled out to him, telling him his dad was on the line, his stomach turning as he pressed the horn against his ear, talking in hushed whispers.

And just like with Louis, the calls always ended with Harry screaming down the line, claiming his dad to be a hypocrite and an arse, before slamming the horn down, ending the call with a bang.

Besides the constant pressure from his father about their time running out - and Harry took the term 'their' very loosely - he still had the constant flirting from Louis to take care off. The boy was persistent, cornering him at every possibility. Nothing every happened, just winks, touches and whispers. 

He had taken to hanging out with Liam. Distancing himself from the blue-eyed devil and sticking to his housemates' side everywhere they went. Liam didn't seem to notice - or mind for that matter - always having stories ready about the most random subjects, chattering away as they hung out or did homework together. 

The only problem was Harry still having to ride with Louis to school, since his dad refused to ship his bike over. He had tried riding with Niall once, but had to switch not even two minutes down the fifteen minute ride. The Irish boy really was a danger for every living thing when he was cycling, nearly crashing against the first tree they passed by when Harry had sat on his carrier.

And every single time it was the same. After dropping him off, Louis demanded a kiss, patting at his cheek with a finger. And every time Harry mumbled about having to look for something and then left in a rush.

That went on for a while, until Louis decided he had enough of him running away every time. 

He had been coming from the living room, history book in hand, earphones in his ears as he focused on reading the last paragraph of the chapter. He wasn't really concentrating on where he was going, blindly making his way to the stairs. Someone had grabbed his arm, yanking him to the side, causing his textbook to go flying, falling to the floor in a heap.

He was dragged into their small library, stumbling as the hand slipped from his arm to close the door. He turned, eyes wide and heart thumping in his chest. In a flash, Louis was close, pressing against him. He took a step back, but the other boy just mimicked him, keeping in contact.

With his back, he collided against the row of bookcases that lined the wall furthest from the door. Louis had whispered in his ear, after pulling one ear bud from his ear, about how he shouldn't fight it and just give in. Harry couldn't manage to retort, just staring down at him, completely still. 

The bloke had smirked, trailing a single finger up his side, making him shiver involuntarily. That had only caused Louis' smirk to grow, pressing even closer, breath ghosting over his ear. Fingers were digging in Harry's hip, keeping him from escaping. He may had been taller than Louis, but he didn't dare pushing against him, in fear of what would come.

A sensation bubbled in his stomach, a feeling that kept him from doing anything except just stand and wait. Louis kept whispering in his ear, things that only set more fire to Harry's insides. 

And suddenly, suddenly he was kissing him, pressing bruising kisses to his lips. Harry flailed, hands grabbing at the shelves digging in his back as his knees buckled. It was hungry, filled with fire and teeth. When a hand slid up in his hair, grabbing at the curls, he couldn't help but close his eyes and relax, kissing back.

Somehow, he could feel the smirk slip from Louis' face as their kiss slowed and went deeper. It turned from heated and fast, to slow and lazy. Harry grabbed at Louis' back, bunching up the material of his shirt in his fist, nails scratching through it.

When they pulled apart, he gasped for air, staring blearily down at Louis, confusion and satisfaction muddling with his brain. 

The look on Louis' face, his lightly red and swollen lips made him realize he was screwed. Not only was he suddenly turned on and weak kneed by another bloke, but the bloke as well was the 'enemy', as his father referred to the Tomlinson family most of the time. 

But all was forgotten when Louis smiled up at him, pressing a single, quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. Because all he could do was smile back and kiss back when Louis' pressed their lips together properly once more.

And then it suddenly was the day Harry had dreaded the most since he moved into Sweetwater. It was Christmas eve, and all boys had decided to spend the holidays up until the 24th at the house, to spend Louis' birthday with him, before dispersing over all parts of Britain to spent Christmas with their families.

Christmas wasn't the thing Harry dreaded, it was the fact that it was Louis birthday that had him on edge all day. It was the day that Louis had to decide whether he was to be the next president and follow up his father, or not to and let the family company die out.

It had been in the papers for the past week, all writing about how the Tomlinson heir had days left before deciding and that maybe, he was still hesitating. Louis had thrown every paper away, cursing at them before storming out the room and every time it was up to Harry to coax him out of his room, luring him in with promises of kisses and pancakes.

They weren't in a real relationship. Nothing had been made official. They acted like a couple, cuddling up on the couch, kissing each other at any given opportunity until their housemates shoved them apart, claiming for them to get a room. Harry cursed himself for doing this, for falling for Louis.

The day had been going well for the most part, until the phone rang and no one moved. Harry tried to focus on everything except Louis, while the other three boys stared down at the blue eyed lad, waiting for him to move and grab the phone.

When Louis finally did, all hell broke loose when the first thing he said was; 'Screw the company, I'm not doing it.'. There had been a long silent, before a voice began yelling down the line, so loud that Harry, Niall, Zayn and Liam could hear every single curse word shot at Louis. But Louis didn't back down, hurling insults back down the line.

"I had a choice, dad! You can't just tell me to take over! It's tradition, and I'm telling you no!" Was the last thing Louis had shouted before hanging up, storming out of the livingroom soon after. Tension hung in the air, no one daring to go after the fuming boy. 

The news spread like wildfire. Somehow the news about Louis declining the position as head had been leaked, going global in a matter of hours. It was all the fashion industry could talk about, most just wondering what would happen to the company that had been competing for the number one position for years, decades even.

Harry knew the consequences of Louis' choice all too well.

It was just hours after the news had come out that his dad had rung the door bell. Liam had answered, yelling back for Harry that his dad was at the door. With an awful feeling deep in his stomach he had shuffled into the hallway, to be immediately pulled into a hug by his dad, claiming to be so proud that he had managed to wipe out their biggest rival.

A gasp from behind had stopped Harry's heart.

"I can't believe you..." Louis' voice was so soft, almost inaudible, when Harry had turned around.

He was met by a broken boy, eyes red and lower lip trembling until a mask of fury came over it. Louis had stalked up to him, slapping him right across his face with the palm of his hand before pushing at his chest. "I can't fucking believe you! I shared my secrets with you! I fucking trusted you with my life! And the only thing you cared about was fucking wiping out Sophisticated and letting it die?!"

"What?! No! That's not what thi-"

He never got to finish as Louis once again slapped him, his other cheek this time. "Don't you dare lie to me, Styles! I should've known when I heard your bloody last name! How could I have been so fucking stupid, not knowing you were the fucking heir to Oakland!?" Harry made a grab at his arm, but he was just pushed away again, colliding with the small side table in the hall, knocking it over.

"I didn't want this, Louis! You have to believe me that I did not do this on my own free will!" He tried to say above Louis' yelling, but his words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Their housemates came around, looking what all the noises were about. Louis kept yelling, telling him he never wanted to see him again, that he was a bloody arsehole who should just crawl into a hole and die, before storming away. Liam yelled after him, making a move to follow him, but Zayn stopped him, turning his eyes on a trembling Harry.

Harry turned to his father, breathing heavy and insides filled with hatred to the man. "You see what you and your idiotic plans just did?! You ruined the one thing in my life that meant something! You care about that bleeding company more than you care about me! Are you happy?! Happy that you ruined my life?!"

His dad said nothing, just grabbing at his arm harshly, pulling him out the door while one of their workers slipped inside, to collect his things while the three boys left in the hallway looked on in confusion. Harry kept yelling, stribbling against his father's bruising hold.  
When he looked up, he could clearly see the silhouette of Louis through his bedroom curtains, throwing things around in his room. Above the roaring engine of his dad's car, he could faintly hear the loud cries, screams and sobs of the boy he had involuntarily fallen in love with over the past weeks.

From the moment he arrived back home in London, he had locked himself in his room, ignoring the persistent knocks on his door from maids and workers, trying to lure him from his room with promises of food or other things. He ignored them all, huddled with a blanket against the heater underneath his window, curled up on himself.

There had been phone calls, but all went ignored until his phone died down and no sounds came from it. He just sat against the heater or on his bed, staring aimlessly at the TV. The only sound that had come from him were the dry sobs, and the curses he flung to his dad's head when the man finally had the nerve to knock on his door, telling him he was being ridiculous.  
Little did he know that Louis wasn't doing any better.

\---

Zayn had taken it upon himself to get his two friends to talk again.

He had tried Louis first, coming to his family home in Doncaster just days after Christmas. The feather haired boy had greeted him with a watery smile, looking worse than the last time Zayn had seen him, when they left Sweetwater on Christmas eve. He had been cooped up in his bedroom ever since he had gotten home.

From his mum, Zayn had heard that she had never seen him like this. She had no idea what happened, that he just came home like that. Of course she had heard about his fight with his father, having him call her up moments after Louis had hung up on him, claiming she hadn't raised him right and that this was all her fault.

She had allowed Zayn to go upstairs, telling him she hoped he could talk some sense into her son with a sigh before turning away from him and going into the kitchen.

Zayn had sat in front of Louis' bedroom door for over an hour, rambling away for a good part of it without getting any response from his friend. But then, as soon as Harry's name left his lips, a sound was heard from behind the wood, a soft whimper Zayn had almost missed.  
Climbing to his feet, he had tried the door handle, wiggling it. It still didn't budge and with a sigh, Zayn leaned against it, pressing his head against the white wood of the door. "He didn't mean to, Lou. I refuse to believe Harry did what he did on his own will." No sounds came from the locked room. "Please, boo, let me in. I just want to know if you're okay..."

The sound of soft, careful footsteps was heard. As the unlocking click sounded, Zayn leaned away, staring at the silver handle as it move, the door opening just the slightest, the dark room appearing slowly. 

Louis appeared as the door moved, hair everywhere and dark blue bags underneath his red eyes. Zayn sighed in pity of his friend, taking a careful step forwards. "Oh Lou..." And just as Louis' eyes welled up with tears again, he enveloped him in a hug, pressing his best friend's face into his shoulder just as the tears began to flow.

They moved to the bed at the opposite side of the room, Zayn pulling the trembling boy in his lap, murmuring soothing words in his ear while rubbing his back. It took a while for Louis to completely calm down and get his breathing back under control. Once he did, they just sat there for a while, both not saying anything.

"I can't believe he would do that to me..."

It was Louis who broke the silence, his voice raw and stutter-y as he spoke up for the first time in what Zayn assumed to be days. He remained in his position buried in Zayn's shoulders, his voice even more inaudible because of his mouth pressing against the fabric of his shirt.

"But, you didn't say no because Harry told you to, right?" 

Louis shook his head, letting out a broken 'no' into his shoulder, a hiccup escaping him.   
"You were already planning on saying no before he even came along."

A nod this time was all he got in answer.

"Then why are you so angry at him?"

The older boy sat up, red and puffy eyes staring up at him, showing vulnerability, something Zayn rarely saw from him. "Because he lied, Zayn. He lied about who he was and why he was there..." His eyes filled with water again, but this time none dribbled down his cheeks. "He was only there for the benefits of his company..."

"Did he tell you that, or did his father do that?"

Louis stared at him for a moment, eyes suddenly narrowed to slits, eyebrows furrowed. "Are you defending him?"

Zayn shrugged as much as he could with his arm still wrapped around the other boy's body. "I'm not saying I am. I'm just implying that maybe Harry wasn't all for this idea of bringing down your dad's company. Maybe his dad made him."

With a shove, Louis was out of his lap, standing a few feet away, eyes almost shooting fire at him. "I can't believe you're defending him! He lied to me, Zayn! He tried to take out my family's company, just so that he could be number one! And you're sitting here, defending him."  
"I'm not defending anyone, Lou. Harry loved you, you could see it in his eyes. He would never do something like this to hurt you! Has he ever even muttered a word to you about you taking over? About you not taking the position of president? Well, I certainly didn't! I just don't think Harry would willingly try to hurt you and lie to you."

Louis just huffed, crossing his arms as he glared down at Zayn from across the room. "It doesn't matter, Zayn! He lied to me about who he was!"

"Did you ever ask him if he was related to the boss of Oakland? No, you didn't! Did he ever try to lead you on, flirting with you? No, he didn't, that was all you! He was avoiding you the whole time, until you just cornered him and kissed him! He was there because his dad made him, Louis. Not because he wanted to take out your family's company."

Louis trembled, arm lifting to point at his bedroom door. Zayn stared at it, then blinking up at his best friend as he muttered just one word. "Out."

In silence, Zayn rose up from the bed, staring Louis straight in the eye as he moved to the door, grabbing the handle. "Think about the last weeks that you've known Harry, Lou. Then you'll realise that he was forced and all this was against his will." And with that, he opened the door, slamming it behind him as he left the room.

He could hear the sob escape Louis as he made his way down the stairs and out the door, leaving his best friend's mother behind in tears.  
On the bus ride back home, he called Harry. The call went unanswered, and he cursed as it went to voicemail. Deciding against calling again, knowing that the green eyed lad wouldn't pick up the second time either, he send a text message. But he got just two words in return.

'Go away'

But he kept sending texts, all unanswered. But it seemed that they started to annoy the crap out of Harry, as he got a text just as the bus neared his stop. It was still short, but Zayn knew he had him.

'I messed up Zayn'

'Let me help you then.'

'You can't Zayn, you can't...'

'Just trust me.'

' Fine' Was the last thing Harry send back to him.

\---

It was eight at night when Zayn dragged Harry into the café a week later. The lad had tried to get out of it when Zayn had appeared at his doorstep, but the other boy hadn't taken no for an answer, practically carrying him to his car. 

The ground were covered in snow, the white flakes descending down on them as they hurried inside. It was warm inside the little café, the darkness and soft light showing a homey surrounding. But Zayn paid it no mind as he pulled Harry along with him to a table, close to a makeshift stage. Liam and Niall were already seated there, grinning up at Harry as he hesitantly sat down.

"Hey mate, you're just in time! Lou is about to ge-" He cut himself short with a pained sound, doubling over as Zayn kicked at his shin underneath the wooden table. 

Harry chocked, swiping around in his chair to look at Zayn. "You didn't..." Was all he said as he made a move to get up. But both Liam and Zayn grabbed at his arm, pulling him back down in his seat. He struggled in their grip. 

"Come on harry, this was the only way to get you together in the same room!"

Harry eyes were dark as they turned down on him. "You don't understand, Zayn. You don't understand what I had to do, what I've done to him!"

"What I do understand, is that you love him, just like he loves you!".

Just then, the lights on the stage popped on, a figure appearing from the dark. Harry's eyes snapped up to him, frozen on his spot as he took in the features of Louis' face, the way his body moved as he seated himself on the little stool, centre stage.

Harry just stood there as the song started, a song he had heard many times before, when Louis was working on it back at Sweetwater house. He swallowed thickly, eyes locked on the boy as he sang. 

But then, Louis opened his eyes, locking them on Harry's, and all breath left his body. He watched as Louis' eyes grew, lips stuttering as he tried to form the words, microphone trembling between his fingers. In a flash, the microphone dropped, a screeching sound going through the café, but Harry paid it no mind as he watched Louis rush from the stage. 

When he kept frozen in his spot, Zayn pushed at him, exclaiming that he needed to go after him. He set in motion then, wading his way through the packed café, into the direction Louis had left.

He found him eventually, at the bar, downing shot after shot, swaying in his seat, well on his way to being drunk. He stood a few feet away, just watching Louis. But it was as if the older boy could sense him, swivelling around on his stool after a moment, eyes narrowed and trying to focus. 

Then, he got up, stumbling over to Harry, pushing at his chest as soon as he was within reach. "You... you... you arse!" He fumbled with his words, pushing weakly against Harry's chest after every try. "I can't believe you would... you would show your... your face.. here!"  
"Louis... I-"

Louis didn't let him finish, huffing. "I... I can't believe you! I trusted you with everything... and then... then you go and do that. I can't believe you!" He spat, flicks of spit escaping from his mouth, hitting Harry in the face. "How dare you do that to me, Styles! I should have known! I should have known you were a spawn from him. Just like him."

Hissing, Harry grabbed at the shorter boy's arm, tightening his fingers. "I'm nothing like my father, Louis. I don't want to be in fashion, but just like you, I was forced."

But Louis just laughed, sarcasm dripping from it as he threw his head back. "Like father, like son." 

"I am nothing like my father." He hissed again, throwing Louis' arm out of his grip. "I can't believe you would compare me to him. Maybe it's you who is just like his father." And then, a stinging feeling, his head snapping to the left harshly.

Louis had slapped him.

"Don't you... don't you dare!"

Harry stared at him, hand on his cheek, hoping it would sooth the burning pain Louis' hand had left on his skin. 

"I'm not like my father!" He was yelling now, standing so close that Harry could feel his breath wash over his cheeks and chin. "I'm not a lying bastard, building a relationship on lies. No, that's you!"

"I never lied to you." He spoke in a softened voice, and it almost seemed like Louis calmed down, his eyes lightening, before turning hard and cold again.

"But this is what you wanted, right? My life ruined, my dad hating me? Broken and bruised? Pining after someone who only wanted to take my family down, so he could be number one? Right?!" He came even closer, nose almost brushing up against Harry's.

"You don't know all the facts..."

Louis surged forwards, pulling him in for a bruising kiss, biting and licking into his mouth. He was pushed back against an empty table, hands on the surface to keep himself stable as he let Louis attack his mouth in wild kisses, fingertips digging into his arm and sides, feeling as if they wanted to tear his skin an flesh apart, bruising them.

And as suddenly as the kiss started, it ended. Louis breathing harshly in his face, eyes hard as they stared at each other. With one last shove, causing Harry to almost fall back onto the table top, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd that had gathered around them, eager to see the two boys fight. 

He could still feel the tingling feeling of Louis lips pressing against his, his fingers digging into him, when Zayn dropped him off at home, defeated that his plan hadn't worked.

\---

It was a month later when Zayn had appeared on his doorstep again, this time on a Saturday afternoon. School had started again a few weeks before, winter break being over. Harry had been transferred back to his old High school, his father claiming that there was no need for him to board again, their plan having succeeded.

Harry didn't even try to fight him this time.

"I have a new plan!" His friend exclaimed as he bounded into his room, Harry dropping back onto his bed, burying himself in his pillows and blanket.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, not even bothering to pull his face up to look at the other boy. "Because your last plan worked out so well.." He tried to gather as much sarcasm as he could. 

"Yes, it was, but you two just had to ruin it. And now I have a new one, because I'm being sick of you two being depressing twats all of the time." Harry huffed, rolling over as he felt Zayn's hand pushing at his shoulder. "So, get your lazy arse up, we need to go."

He sat up, staring straight at the other boy, emotionless. "And do pray tell, Lord Zayn, what idiotic plan have you written up for me now?" The only thing he got was a glare and with a sigh he pushed up from his bed. "Fine..." He sighed, crossing his arms. "I swear if-"

"It won't." Zayn cut him off, grabbing at his arm and pulling him from the room. "I promise you it will all work out."

"You told me that the last time you dragged me somewhere." He deadpanned but still allowed himself to be pulled from his house and onto the driveway, where Zayn's silver car was parked behind his father's black Volvo.

"But this time I'm sure of it."

Without any further argument, Harry climbed into the car, allowing Zayn to take him anywhere he wanted to. He stared mainly out the window, only half listening to the hyped up blabbering coming from the driver's seat, Zayn happily talking away about how things were back at Sweetwater house. 

The only thing he had heard was something about Niall and a box of pencils and a fuming Liam.

Somehow they had ended up in central London, just twenty minutes away from Harry's home. They parked at the curb, Harry staring at the building on the sidewalk as Zayn turned off the engine.

"Why did you bring me here, Zayn?"

It was the headquarters of one of the smaller record labels positioned in London. Harry had heard about it once, from a schoolmate that had applied for a summer job there. Even if he loved to perform one day, he had never really looked into the whole record labels yet.  
"Because-" Zayn started, opening his car door and getting out. "- Lou interns here to get into some kind of study he wants to follow next year."He finished, bending down so Harry could see his face. He was grinning, something sparkling - really, that always creeped him out - in his eyes. "And you're going to be serenading him here."

He chocked, pushing back against his still closed car door. "Sorry?!" He exclaimed, eyes widening while the other lad just kept grinning down at him. "I am doing what now?!"

"Singing a song, make him fall in love with you. Yada, yada, yada..." He made some kind of motion with his hand, a turning movement as he pulled his eyebrows up. "It's really simple. You must have some kind of love song buried in that mass off curls you have. Lou will fall at your feet in no time."

"I don't really think that'll work, Zayn."

There was a moment of silence between them, in which Harry shifted from his left foot to his right, hands folded behind his back. It made him uncomfortable to have Zayn stare at him like that, as if he just badmouthed his favourite family member.

"Don't be so negative, Haz. I promise you, it'll work. You want him back, don't you?"

He turned his gaze up to the building, swallowing thickly. "I just don't think he wants me. He said so himself, I ruined his life, Zayn."  
Zayn huffed behind him, making him look back. "Louis needs to get over the fact you never told us who your dad was. He never asked, so you had every right to not tell us. Besides, he was going to say no, whether he had met you or not. He just needs to get over that."

"I still lied to him..."

"About what? You never muttered a word about Louis having to take over or about how he should say no. You never denied being the heir of Oakland. I don't see where you lied."

He released a shaky breathe, pulling his hand through his curls, rustling them around. "About how I would never hurt him. I knew one day I was, that he would discover my dad's plans and who I was. I knew that would tear him, break him, and I still said it."  
"That wasn't something you could control, Harry."

"No, but I could have stayed away! I could have avoided him! But it was too hard, he was so bloody stubborn, drawing me in with everything he did! I tried so hard to stay away from, because I knew what would happen if I got close to him, what my dad would do! But I-" He cut himself off, rubbing his hand down his face, trying to force the tears back from dripping down his reddened cheeks.  
"But you fell in love, didn't you?"

Smiling watery, he looked Zayn straight in the eye. "Yeah..." He whispered, shaking his head. "I did."

"And that's why we're here, to get him back. I know Lou can be a bit thick and stubborn sometimes, but I know he loves you."  
"So," Harry started after a long silence between them. "what was the plan again?"

Zayn grinned, slinging his arm around his shoulders, leading him insides as he went through his plan once again.

\---

"Tomlinson!"

Louis' eyes snapped up from the thick stack of papers in his arms, turning them on a bulky man in the doorway of the break room. "There are these two guys making a ruckus in the lobby. Go look and send them away. Get the demos while you're at it too."

"Don't we have security to do that?"

His boss just stared at him before leaving the break room, saying nothing. Louis sighed, dropping his head before pushing away from the counter he had been leaning against.

It had been a long few weeks since he had started interning, running errands for everyone working there. He hadn't even seen a recording booth from the inside, except that time he had to bring this one producer his coffee before getting yelled at that it was cold.

It had been almost too hot for him to touch.

Shaking his head, he left the break room, going to the stairs to descend down to the ground level. They had a lift, but he found it more convenient to use the stairs, as it took ages for the lift to arrive, no matter on which floor he was at any given time.

He could hear them before he even arrived at the bottom floor. There was a rhythmical banging noise, almost going in time with a low voice singing loudly. With raised eyebrows, he pushed open the door that led from the stairwell to the lobby. They had some nerve, barging in here and just singing in the lobby, probably hoping for a record deal or something.

But before he could even enter the lobby, his eyes fell on them. Zayn and Harry. In the middle of the lobby, Zayn on the floor, banging his hands against the marble floor, Harry next to him, singing.

All air left him, his hands slackening around the golden doorknob, slipping off. The door banged against his body, the sound just loud enough to be heard by the two in the middle of the room. His breath caught in his throat when Harry's eyes snapped up to him.

"Why are you guys here?" He mumbled, hugging the stack of papers against his chest. He watched as Zayn rose up from the floor, nudging Harry forward. "I have to ask you two to leave the building." He said, hoping his voice was stronger as they walked towards him.

"Lou-" Zayn spoke up. "-Harry wants to-" But Louis never let him finish.

"I need you to leave the building, as you are causing mayhem. Or we will call the cops."

"Come on Lou."

Snapping, Louis turned his eyes back on Zayn. "No, Zayn. You're leaving or I'll call the c-"

He hadn't seen Harry move, hadn't noticed how the bloke had moved in a flash, grabbing his face in both palms and crashing his mouth against his. Flailing, all papers fell from Louis' arms like in those cliché movies he watched in secret at home, buried under the sheets and awing at all the sweet moments.

His heart swelled, his tummy turning as Harry licked into his mouth, hands light on his jaw and cheeks. Both hands grabbing at the taller lad's jacket, he rose up on his toes to level out their height and to be able to kiss back properly.

Pulling back, he lowered himself down again, keeping his eyes closed as a sigh passed his lips.

"Please.." Harry whispered, both hands still on his face. He looked up, eyes opening to look at two desperate green ones. And at that moment he realised what he had been missing.

Swallowing, he pulled away, backing into the stairwell. "I..." He began, swallowing again. "...I need to get these demos..." His voice trailed off, watching as Harry's face fell, eyes growing sadder than he had ever seen them. The boy looked defeated, ready to cry, and his heart tightened at the sight of the broken boy. "But..." He whispered, Harry's eyes snapping up from where they had been staring at his trainers. "... call me tonight... okay?" He finished.

Some light came back upon Harry's eyes, his lips turning into a small, watery smile. "Yeah..." He nodded quickly. "...will do."

Eyeing around Harry's shoulder to see if there was anyone besides them and Zayn in the lobby, he swept in, pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek. Harry caught him, arms wrapping around him tightly. And at that point, he hadn't felt more at home in the last few months.

Pulling back again, he shot a small smile, bending down and gathering his papers together, not really caring if they were in order or right side up. "I need to get those demos."

And really, when he glanced back at Harry, doing this little jig in the middle of the lobby, his heart swelled. It would take a long time for him to gain his trust back, but once it did, he would be the happiest man alive. Because at just nineteen, he had found someone he felt more at home at, than his real home.

And yeah, Zayn was right, he had been a hypocrite about the whole situation.

\---

"Really, Harry?! How long does it take to do your bloody hair?! We're going to Zayn's party, not a bloody Royal wedding!" He yelled down the hall of their small apartment, annoyed at how his boyfriend has been cooped up in their bathroom for the last half an hour.

"Just because you spent most your time in a recording booth, doesn't mean I have to look like my hair gives home to a family of birds!" Was shot back at him.

Laughing, he turned to their living room, dropping down on their couch. Because it was true. He was again interning at the same record company, only now it was to get his degree in producing, which meant no more coffee or demo runs, and real producing, behind the soundboards in the booths.

"Hazzaaaaa..." He whined, throwing his head back when he continued to hear Harry rummage through the bathroom cupboards. "Come on! Liam is going to get pissed if we don't get there on time. You remember what happened last ti-" He cut of as he saw their bathroom door slide open, Harry appearing from the darkness. 

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Tomlinson." Bending down, he pressed a kiss on his lips, leaving him with a grin when he pulled away.  
"Can we go now?" He asked, still dangling his head over the backrest of their couch. "Zayn is graduating, and it's a real big deal to Liam that we're there on time."

Leaning his hands on the backrest just next to Louis head, dangling above him, he murmured, pressing another kiss to his lips. "I think Liam can wait another half an hour or so, don't you think?"

Raising one eyebrow, Louis laughed. "Don't think so. I can already hear him freaking out from over here." Twisting in his seat so he was facing Harry, his knees pressing against the backrest of the couch. "So, get that ass moving."

A hand pressed to the back of his head as Harry connected their lips in a deep kiss. He sighed, trying to fight his boyfriend, before giving in and falling into the kiss, grapping at the collar of his shirt. Using him as a leverage, he pulled himself up, throwing his legs over the edge of the couch so he was sitting on the backrest, Harry between his legs.

"I think..." He said, trying to catch his breath as they disconnected, Harry's hands at his thighs. "...half an hour won't kill him..." And with that, he was lifted off the couch, legs wrapping around Harry's hips, ankles locking together at his bum.

"Make it an hour." Was the last thing Harry said as he carried him over to their bedroom, slamming the door close behind them.

And at that moment, Louis couldn't be happier that he had started forgiving Harry that day, now almost four years ago.


End file.
